The men at the bar turned their heads and looked at me when the word "naked" left my lips.

"What are you fucking looking at?" I asked them.

They averted their eyes back to the game. I made sure to lower my voice and slightly turn my back toward them. Bastards.

"Sometimes you can be such a bitch," Abbie said.

"What do you expect? They were being nosey old perverts. Anyway."

I whispered in the phone. "He wants to sell my virginity."

"What?"

"He wants to se—"

"I heard you."

"Who the hell does he think he is? It pisses me off that I put myself in a vulnerable situation. I am Jennifer Downs. Most likely to succeed. Career-driven. Prudish. Pretty. Not some bimbo who undresses at the drop of a hat."

"But you did."

It sounded way worst when I told her about it. Every detail down to him telling me to take off my panties, but I refused to tell her how I felt. I've never been the type to say no to a challenge, so I had to. Especially those that come from some young prick CEO of a sex corporation.

Abbie and I said our goodbyes, she promised to come visit around Christmas, and told me to keep my options open, but not to do anything stupid. Always the scandalous girl, that one.

I couldn't keep my mind from Mr. Felton. The way the Gucci suit hugged his body in all the right places and how his velvety voice dropped low, but seemed to ring in my ears. The man was fucking intoxicating to the bone and I hated him for putting a spell on me. I didn't believe in love at first sight, but lust, yes, I was a firm believer of lust at first sight. That asshole.

But as I rode up the golden elevator, I could feel the ache between my legs.

What. The. Living. Fuck?

How could someone so rude, condescending, and assholish have this effect on me? Was assholish even a word? He even clouded my mind to the point of making up stupid words.

I sat on the edge of the bed and thought it over for an hour. Then I undressed down to nakedness and studied myself in the mirror. I could admit that I was a sweet lay, but really? Could I sell my virginity?

Before I turned out the light, I texted Mr. Finnley Felton one word.

Yes.

There was no response.

The next day, bangs on my door woke me from a restless sleep. I grabbed the robe and wrapped it around my body. Seriously, sleeping nude was my new favorite thing.

More knocks pounded on the door.

God, what time was it?

The sun hadn't risen, so 6:00 a.m.? Maybe 7:00 a.m.?

Through the peephole, I saw Charlie, Mr. Felton's driver, standing with a garment bag in his hands. Before he could knock again, I swung open the door. His fist was suspended in the air.

"Good morning, Charlie." I smiled, and he did, as well.

"What can I do for you on this fine early Friday morning?"

"Mr. Felton instructed me to bring clothes, breakfast, and tell you to get dressed immediately."

He handed me the garment bag and a little box with a daisy sticker.

"I'll be waiting downstairs. You have ten minutes."

And as he walked off, he turned around and said, "Felton's schedule is tight today, so ten minutes tops."

The mention of Mr. Felton's name sparked electricity through my body.

Get yourself together, Jennifer.

I opened the black nylon bag and found a pair of red lacy panties and bra to match, along with business slacks and a button-up shirt.

I lusted over the pretty, petite panties and lacy bra. I may have a small obsession with beautiful lingerie.

Letting the robe slide from my shoulders, I removed the lace from the little pink hangers and slipped them on.

The lingerie fit like it was made for my body. I couldn't help but wonder how he knew. That type of thing wasn't on my resume, but then again, he most likely saw hundreds of women naked considering his profession. I wondered if he could guess any woman's size just by studying her bare body for a few seconds. Hell, he could probably guess with them fully clothed.

I slipped the straps over my shoulders and reached my hands behind and clasped. The way the bra hugged my body was pure perfection. The material fit like a glove, but softer, and sexier, that was for damn sure. The panties felt just as nice, except they were high cut in the bottom, not quite a thong but not quite a panty. I didn't usually wear that style, but wow, they made my ass look great. Tan skin paired with steamy red lingerie, I looked sexy. It's amazing what flawlessly designed lingerie could do to a woman's self-esteem.

I pulled the pressed slacks from the hanger, size seven—man he was good—and slipped on the button-up shirt that went all the way up to the neck. I looked like a prude with nastiness hidden underneath.

In the back of the garment bag, a scribbled note read:

Wear your hair down. –F. Felton

After a quick brush of the teeth, and another look in the mirror, I was out the door. Not full makeup because it wasn't necessary, just a little color on the lips.

A feeling crept up inside of me that I couldn't quite put my finger on. The excitement of the unknown raged and flipped.

Outside, the reflections of the surrounding buildings danced upon the limo. I felt too upper class riding it in and completely out of my zone. As I walked closer, Charlie greeted me with a head nod and opened the back door. Before I climbed in, I thanked him, and took a deep breath, hoping my heart wouldn't burst from my chest. The thought of seeing Mr. Felton sitting inside the limo made me nervous. How would he act now that I'd agreed to join his team? Treat me like a whore? Demand me to obey him? I didn't know, but I would soon find out.

Once inside the limo, I expected to see green eyes and messy hair eagerly awaiting me, but my arrival was greeted with evil looks from two women.

Well damn, was my last thought before the limo door closed and we sped off.

"Ms. Downs, my name is Paisley, and this is Jessica, but she likes to be called Jesse. We have been assigned to mentor you over the next few weeks."

Intimidation and doubt slowly replaced my excitement. Paisley looked like a goddess with naturally tanned skin, golden brown hair, and a face only the daughter of Zeus could have. Jesse had blonde hair, a petite nose, light skin, and bright red lips. If I believed in the supernatural, I might have assumed she was a vampire. These two women couldn't be more opposite from one another, and they rivaled in beauty.

"As she said, we will be mentoring you for the next few weeks." Jesse's tone was nothing but disinterest coated in boredom. She sighed after she spoke, and then mumbled something, which I only assumed to be bitchy by the way her head bobbed, to Paisley. I overheard things like: she's not wearing makeup, just another one of Finn's toys, not going to cut it.

I cleared my throat and then spoke. "Excuse me, I'm right here, and can hear you."

Jesse crossed her arms and legs and pushed her body further into the soft leather seats. I wished they would suck her in.

"I apologize, Ms. Downs. Jessica can sometimes forget her manners."

Paisley sent her an incredulous look, but Jesse returned it with an open eye roll and a moan. She treated me like a second-class citizen, not good enough to be in the same car with her.

Paisley smiled at me, not a big warm smile, but a courteous one.

"So where were we? Oh yes. Mentoring. If you are to be an Elite, you must act as an Elite, which requires proper etiquette training. Think of it as orientation if you will."